


ping ping (the sound of our hearts)

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Black Logic | Logan Sanders, Black Morality | Patton Sanders, Chinese Creativitwins, M/M, Mutual Pining, Telepathic Bond, morally grey everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: When one of Remus’s inventions reacts with Patton’s powers, the result is a lot more stressful than Patton would have predicted.And then, conveniently, it isn’t.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 33
Kudos: 255





	ping ping (the sound of our hearts)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wisherbystarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisherbystarlight/gifts).



> I’m so excited! This is my fic for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange and i was PHENEMONALLY lucky in the draw and got someone i actually know - [@wisherbystarlight!!!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisherbystarlight/pseuds/wisherbystarlight) i really hope you enjoy it darling!!!

So. The thing of it was... Patton had sorta backed himself into a pretty spectacularly cramped corner.

He obviously hadn’t _meant_ to. It had started so subtly he hadn’t noticed, and by the time he did realize exactly what was happening it had been going on long enough he was too mortified to bring it up.

So he’d just tried to… not think about it, which had gone… not. Great.

It had only been a few months since the six of them had sort of… fallen in together. Since Logan, Patton, and Roman had finally realized that the publicly-endorsed superhero gig was really more like being a glorified cop and decided that wasn’t how they wanted to operate anymore, and since Wraith, Glamour, and Dr. Duke had what Patton liked to call a “change of heart” and what Glamour – who Patton now knew as Janus – called “Virgil’s bleeding heart getting the better of him,” whatever that meant.

Which meant the Dark Sides were no longer supervillains – or at least, they no longer robbed banks or terrorized politicians on live TV. And the Light Sides…. weren’t really superheroes. At least not… _legally._

“That makes you a supervillain, Princey,” said Virgil, sitting upside down on the couch and grinning smugly up at Roman on the other end.

“Virgil, don’t pick,” said Patton.

“We’re _vigilantes,_ ” said Roman hotly.

“Do you have superpowers?” said Virgil.

“Obviously,” said Roman, flicking a little gold construct in the shape of a star in Virgil’s direction that puffed into glitter when it reached Virgil’s nose.

“Do you use them to do illegal things?”

“That’s misrepresenting!”

“Well,” said Logan, shrugging, “We _did_ have our licenses revoked by the city mayor-”

“The _corrupt_ mayor!” exclaimed Roman.

“Doesn’t matter!” said Virgil smugly, “Vigilante justice is _illegal_ , you’re using superpowers to do it, and that's the _definition_ of a supervillain.”

“I am _not_ a supervillain!”

“Legally speaking,” drawled Janus, coming around to drape himself gracefully across the arm of the couch and Patton’s legs, “You are. But if it makes you feel better, the law is rarely ever on the side of real morality.”

“You rob _banks_ , you're hardly a moral authority,” said Roman, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Corrupt banks, banks foreclosing on families, banks extorting people, etc,” said Janus, waving his hand, “And _robbed_ , past tense. I don’t do that anymore, since you three made doe-eyes at Virgil and he dragged us all in being above board.”

“You _just_ said I was a supervillain!” said Roman.

“At-board, whatever,” said Janus, “Neutral board. We dial back on the domestic terrorism, you stop being poster children for working for the bourgeoisie. Compromise, and Virgil gets to keep his goody-two-shoes boy-”

“Oh, _shut up_ , Jan!” groused Virgil, chucking a pillow at him.

Janus caught it, sitting up as his skin rippled, wiggling his fingers in a little wave while wearing a very good imitation of Roman’s face, sleek black hair and all, even if the condescending expression was all Janus.

“If you are quite finished assaulting me,” drawled Janus, “Remus wants you in his lab,”

“I’m sure Remus also wants a radioactive puppy, doesn't mean I have to give it to him,”

“Already done,” deadpanned Roman.

“You’re kidding,” said Virgil, launching up from the couch.

“We were twelve.” said Roman, a funny look on his face, “Government came and repossessed it and everything. We never did figure out where he got the uranium.”

“Fascinating,” said Logan, already moving toward Remus’s lab.

_Ping._

“Oop, pause!” said Patton.

Janus rolled his eyes, and Virgil gave him a wary look, but Logan and Roman both froze where they stood and looked directly at Patton.

Patton tilted his head, examining Logan.

“Maybe let someone else bring up uranium,” said Patton, “Remus might get some dangerous ideas about quasars and radiation if you do it.”

“If he hasn’t gotten ideas from Logan’s codename yet why would uranium do it?” said Janus, rolling his eyes.

“I dunno- I just know!” said Patton, scrunching his face in a smile, “Trust me.”

“Not likely,”

“C’mon, Jan,” muttered Virgil, shoving him, “How many times did Fortune kick our asses ‘just knowing’ something? Pat knows what he’s talking about.”

“Aw, thank you Virgil!”

Virgil’s response was to yank up his hood and move toward the lab, which stung a little, but Patton would take what he could get.

They all knew this new normal was all because of Virgil. Virgil, who had seen the Light Sides spectacularly fall from grace trying to reveal the mayor’s corruption and lose everything, and somehow convinced Remus and Janus to take them in from the cold and meet them in the middle. Patton still didn’t know why, but he knew he’d always be grateful.

Roman, and Janus still wearing Roman’s face, entered the lab first, and the rest of them brought up the rear.

There was a loud crash – so, pretty normal – and some scrambling, and one Remus Hou, AKA the Hazardous Doctor Duke, came stumbling around a gigantic computer with a fistful of wires and a grin that immediately dropped into a petulant frown.

“Janny-baby, you know I hate it when you look like Roman.”

“Of course, darling.”

Janus rippled, and when he turned to give Patton a wink it was with a perfect mirror of Patton’s own much darker face.

“Better, but barely.”

“Don’t be a dick to Patton, Duke,” said Virgil, shoving him lightly as he moved to a chair.

“Doctor Duke to you, Spooky Scary Skelefriend.”

“For the last time,” exclaimed Logan, “You are _not_ , in any sense of the word, a doctor.”

“You're really gonna die on that hill, huh, Starbright?”

“I am not going to die on any hills, I am expressing your lack of semantic accuracy.”

“Gonna be honest, ‘not gonna die on any hills’ sound like a challenge.”

“You’re not killing Logan either you fucking gremlin,” said Virgil, shoving him again, “Just tell us what you want, Duke.”

“World domination,” he replied immediately.

“No longer on the table, try again,” said Janus cheerfully.

“A whole _bunch_ of red matter.”

“What do you want us in _here for?_ ” said Virgil through all but gritted teeth.

“Oh, right!” said Remus, scrambling over to one of the many tables stacked high with everything from loose wires and circuits to what looked like functioning ray guns. He began sifting carelessly through them.

“Uh… Remus?” said Patton.

“Just gotta find it!”

“Darling!” called Janus, giving Remus one of the soft looks that as far as Patton had seen were reserved exclusively _for_ Remus.

Remus perked up.

“You gave them to me, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” said Remus, scrambling back over, “Gimmeeeee.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Gimme or I’ll commit an arson.”

“That works,” said Janus fondly, reaching into the inner pocket of his caplet and retrieving a smallish, flat container that looked a bit like a jewelry box.

Remus took the lid off and tossed it behind him, turning away from Janus to face the rest of them.

“Stick these on your temples.”

_Ping._

“Okay!” said Patton.

“Wait, _wait!”_ said Virgil, reaching over and taking Patton’s hand, outstretched toward the earbuds, “Pat you can’t- you know you don’t have to just let Remus experiment on you, right? Some of this stuff is dangerous, you have to ask questions.”

“It’ll be okay!” said Patton, “Or I mean- it won't hurt me, I’d _definitely_ notice that. It pings fine,”

“Pings?” said Virgil, strangled.

“If Patton says the objects won’t harm us, I believe him.” said Logan, “However, I would still like to know what it does before I attach it to my person.”

“I, too, am not putting a single invention of Remus’s on my body until I know exactly what it does. The _rest of you_ didn’t grow up his favorite test subject.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I liked my lab mice way more than I liked you.”

“What does it _do,_ Remus?” demanded Virgil.

“Neurolink!” said Remus, pressing it to his temple where it stuck and lit up, “Lets you talk to each other in your minds.”

“Why not just use _ear comms?_ ” snapped Virgil.

“Because that’s _boring_ ,” said Remus, “And easier to eavesdrop on, but mostly boring.”

“No way.” said Virgil, “I am not putting that thing on my head.”

“It pings fine, kiddo?”

“So you keep saying.”

“Calm down, Creepy Hollow, I already tested it, it works fine.”

Virgil’s expression turned a little wary.

“Really!” said Remus, taking the link off his temple, “Janny gets to see all my best toys first, you know that.”

“So what are we testing?”

“If it works on more than two people at once.”

Virgil looked a little more cautiously interested, and Patton managed to reach around him to quickly snatch up the little device and press it to his temple with a little _click_ before Virgil could stop him.

 _Ping_.

There was something very good about these neurolinks, and even if Patton couldn’t quite figure out what it was yet, he was, as always, pretty willing to let it play out. His powers of intuition might not be as exact as some other supers, but they’d never led him astray before.

“You're _sure_ it’s safe?” said Roman, looking at Patton for confirmation rather than Remus.

“Definitely,” said Patton brightly, nodding. “It’s goodie gumdrops, promise.”

Roman wavered for another moment, but it was enough for Logan to reach out and grab one of the links out of the box, and Roman followed suit. Virgil was watching Patton with a blatantly anxious expression, and Patton smiled soothingly at him.

“It really is safe,” he said gently.

Something flickered in Virgil’s expression, before he jerked his gaze away from Patton with a scowl – another sting to Patton’s feelings – but he did take the link and quickly tapped it to his temple, like he was trying to get it over with before he changed his mind.

When they all had them attached, Remus grinned maniacally and held up a little remote.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” grumbled Virgil.

Remus clicked the button.

Nothing happened for a moment.

 _Is this thing on?_ came Roman’s voice, as if echoing from a long tunnel.

 _Roman!_ thought Patton brightly, _I can hear you!_

… _I am also able to hear the conversation,_ came Logan’s voice after a long pause, _though I seem to be having more trouble projecting my thoughts than the two of you._

 _What’s hard about it for you?_ Thought Patton.

Another pause.

… _Not sure,_ thought Logan, _It merely… seems to be going slower than… your own reactions-_

 _Same!_ Came Virgil's voice, abrupt and nearly cutting off the end of Logan’s sentence. All three of them startled, and Patton realized Virgil must have been trying to speak for a while and only just got something to come through.

“I take it they work?” drawled Janus, pulling another jump out of all four of them as they remembered that they weren’t at all alone.

“Yeah,” said Roman, voice a little double to Patton’s ears, “Not working as well for Logan and Virgil though.”

“Totally can’t talk for myself,” said Virgil sarcastically, which made Roman roll his eyes.

“Hmm-um-um-um _-”_ Remus hummed to himself, and then there was a tiny _ping_ and Patton realized he’d gotten stuck. The rest of them waited patiently for the stutter to peter out before Remus shook himself and looked back up with a wide smile.

“No clue why!” he said cheerfully, fidgeting with one of the exposed wires of the unfinished remote “Might be a personality thing. Maybe if I fiddle with the individual settings a bit-”

Remus pulled a little on one of the wires, and even Patton’s enhanced reflexes didn’t have enough time to react to before the link on his temple sparked and shorted, making Patton yelp as he yanked it off and felt the tiny, barely raised burn it had left behind.

Virgil immediately scrambled to remove his own, and Roman and Logan weren’t far behind. Virgil shoved his own back into Remus’s hands with a snarl and turned to grab Patton gingerly by the chin and turn his head.

“You _said_ it ‘pinged’ fine!” said Virgil, frustrated.

“I- it _did._ ” said Patton, baffled, “It- it didn't even ping at all before it started sparking, I don’t-”

He gave the sparking neurolink on the floor a bewildered look, reaching down to pick it up only to be yanked back by the sleeve by Virgil.

“ _No_ way,” he growled, “Duke, take your weird invention and shove it, no more tests.”

But Remus was looking directly at Patton with narrowed eyes, muttering inaudibly fast.

“Can I scan your brain?” he said abruptly, cutting off his own muttering.

“ _Hell no_ _,_ ” snarled Virgil, grabbing Patton’s wrist and dragging him toward the door out of the lab, grabbing Roman by the back of his collar on the way past. Logan didn’t seem to have a problem following.

“Find something else to experiment on, Duke!” Virgil shouted, slamming the lab door shut as soon as all four of them were out the door. He let his forehead hit it with a groan.

“ _Idiot,_ ” Virgil muttered quietly, his voice suddenly strangely small-sounding, “What if it had melted through his _skull_ , Patton could have _died_ , you should have put your foot down and said _no-”_

“Hey,” said Patton, alarmed, trying to keep his voice soothing and placing his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “I’m fine, sweetie, you don't have to worry.”

“I wasn’t _worried,_ ” snapped Virgil, yanking at the sleeves of his hoodie.

Patton startled. It was… kind of an odd thing for Virgil to say, wasn’t it, after beating himself up with clear distress over whether or not Patton was hurt?

An image flashed to the top of Patton’s mind, sudden and shockingly clear, of Roman with Virgil and Patton cradled against him, and it was so intensely focused and _tender_ that Patton made a startled, mortified noise, his face flushing.

All three of the others looked at him in varying states of confusion.

“Patton?” prompted Logan, “Are you hurt?”

“Uh…” said Patton, face burning, “No.”

 _He’s clearly lying,_ said Logan, frowning.

Except when he said it, his mouth didn’t move at all.

 _Well,_ thought Patton, uncharacteristically sarcastic, _Great._

_\---_

So yeah. He absolutely should have said something.

But Patton had thought – hoped, really – that it was just a temporary fritz that would wear off. He even managed to convince himself it _was_ wearing off, as the incidences of him overhearing Roman, Virgil, and Logan’s thoughts became fewer and further between, conveniently ignoring that it was probably because Patton had started fleeing the room every time one of them entered.

Which became all at once impossible the day Logan’s mouth pinched, barely noticeable, as Patton went to leave, and Patton heard the thought clear as day.

_He’s upset with me._

Patton’s heart clenched, and he stopped just before the door.

 _What did I do?_ thought Logan, his internal voice far more emotional than his normal speaking tone, _I can’t think of anything, but he’s barely looked at me in two days – I must have done_ something-

“Hey, Logan?” said Patton, unable to bear it a second longer, shame curling in his stomach.

Startling, Logan looked up, and Patton couldn’t tell if the shimmer of hope in his eyes was really visible or If Patton just saw it because he knew it was there.

“Uh- you know the other day, when I told you not to make Remus think about quasars and radiation?”

“… Yes?” said Logan.

“I was wondering,” continued Patton, moving cautiously forward, “Um- why don’t _you_ give off radiation? Since your powers are- well, starry,”

Logan lit up – just a little bit literally, the way he sometimes did when he was very excited, rushing across the room and gesturing for Patton to sit next to him on the couch.

Patton followed, focusing on Logan’s face as he began to animatedly explain the way his powers converted solar radiation into other forms of energy – Patton really did love to listen to Logan infodump, and it _had_ been a while, so he settled in to enjoy it for a little while.

Which quickly turned out to be impossible.

Logan’s words continued, but so did his thoughts – and as Patton’s face rapidly turned burning warm listening to them, he figured out that Logan’s thoughts were not matching up with his words _at all_.

 _He’s so beautiful,_ thought Logan, his voice _far_ more besotted than Patton could have even _imagined_ Logan could sound.

_His eyes are so dark I can’t discern the pupils. It’s maddeningly distracting, I feel like I could do nothing but look into his eyes and never grow bored._

_I’m dying,_ thought Patton hysterically, _I am absolutely, 100% dying._

 _And he listens,_ said Logan, a dreamy note coloring the thought, _Here I am babbling away and he has not looked away at the clock or the door once, so considerate and kind. He is wonderful. It is a wonder I haven't yet given into the impulse to kiss him-_

Patton made a strangled squeak.

Logan’s words – his _actual_ words, coming out of his mouth, the ones Patton very much was not paying attention to – paused, a little furrow developing in his brow.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

 _Is he ill? He has some sweat at his temples. He let me hold him the last time he had a cold and I didn’t stop thinking about it for weeks, I don’t know If I could stand it a second time without kissing him even if he_ was _sick._

“I, um-”

 _Have to go,_ was what Patton _should_ say, except Logan had just- he’d just been so _happy_ that Patton was staying and listening, and-

But was that _fair?_ Logan certainly hadn’t given Patton _permission_ to read his mind – Patton using it to- to- to make himself look better, or kinder, wasn't fair at _all._ Patton shouldn’t be using Logan’s thoughts or his-

His-

 _Feelings,_ Logan had _feelings for Patton_ , he wanted to _kiss_ him, and the thought alone had Patton’s heart hammering in his throat.

Patton- Patton _could…_ kiss _Logan._

He shook himself, stomach churning.

No _way._ Patton shouldn’t know at all – he’d taken Logan’s choice away from him, and now he couldn’t even come _clean_ about it because then Logan would _absolutely_ know and be mortified.

“I’m fine,” he lied, voice wavering.

“… Are you sure?” said Logan gently.

_Is he upset? I hate when he’s upset. He’s somehow still attractive even with tears and his eyes puffy and all I can think about is how desperately I want to sooth every pain he’s ever had-_

“Keep-” said Patton, strangled, “Keep- telling me about radiation?”

Logan examined him carefully.

_Is he lying? He does that, sometimes. Like he thinks his sorrow will burden me, as if anything about Patton could ever be a burden._

“Please?” said Patton, reaching over to squeeze Logan’s hand and hating himself for it.

Logan’s thoughts became a _blur_ of stammering words for a moment, too fast for Patton to process but fluttering with the shyest, sweetest notes Patton had ever heard in Logan’s voice, before Logan squeezed his hand back with a gentle, slightly awed smile and began to speak again.

Oh yeah. Patton was in _big_ trouble.

\---

Roman and Virgil pretty much never stopped bickering.

They’d been that way when they’d been on opposite sides of the conflict, too – Patton couldn’t even count the number of times he’d had to restrain himself from bursting out laughing the middle of a fight because Wraith deadpanned some pun and then vanished, or because Roman had busted out a particularly witty nickname.

Patton had seen the way it had started to edge into affectionate territory even _before_ they’d all wound up on the same side. Now there was no hiding the fondness, and Patton had gotten used to that, too.

Except Roman’s thoughts were very, _very_ loud – or, bright, Patton supposed, giggling internally at the ‘Prince Bright’ pun, because Roman seemed to think in pictures rather than words – and very hard to ignore, and not remotely focused on the argument he was having with Virgil.

What Roman was _focused on,_ was _kissing_ Virgil.

Very, _very_ enthusiastically.

Virgil thought in more of a mix of pictures and words, but he was entirely drowned out by the _intensity_ of Roman’s thoughts, the way they tinged gold at the edges and looked real enough to touch. Patton couldn’t imagine how Roman’s powers weren’t kicking in and just conjuring the specter of Virgil and Roman kissing each other senseless into gold construct right there in the middle of the room.

Virgil shoved Roman’s arm and Roman pictured grabbing him by the hand to pull until their lips met. He laughed, and Roman imagined kissing the sound out of his mouth until it morphed into a moan. Virgil _smirked_ , and Patton saw him pinned under Roman in his old, supervillain Wraith costume, the two of them pressed together from chest to hip.

Patton felt like some kind of _voyeur,_ but he was sitting with Logan on the opposite couch, and in the past couple of days Logan had still had little blurb thoughts about Patton being mad at him. Patton was _trying_ not to avoid them, but he was starting to wonder if this wouldn’t qualify as some form of torture.

Virgil stuck his tongue out petulantly, and the sudden image of Roman licking into his mouth and sliding their tongues together was so vivid Patton almost _felt it,_ and he made a tiny, breathless noise before he could stop himself.

Three heads turned to give him curious looks, and Patton thought a little hysterically that he was genuinely impressed that Roman managed to keep a straight face around Virgil, if _this_ was what he was thinking about every time they were in the same room.

And it wasn’t like- well, Patton had _eyes_ , didn’t he? Even before they were all on the same team, Wraith had seemed handsome and mysterious and cocky and it had been obvious to everyone there had been _some_ kind of tension between Wraith and Prince Bright.

Patton just hadn’t expected to get front row seats to the fact that it was a lot more than _tension_ and more like full-blown fantasizing.

(And he was very much not thinking about the fact that he was probably enjoying the show _way_ more than he should be.)

“You okay?” said Roman.

“Just- pinched. My, um, leg. The fabric of my jeans, I mean, it- startled. Me.”

Roman’s eyebrows had climbed higher and higher through Patton’s stammering, utterly transparent lie, and there was another intense flash of Roman holding Patton against his chest and comfortingly stroking his hair.

Which was just – just _too much_ , a straw that broke the camel's back and made the camel feel like his heart was going to burst into a shower of glitter confetti and get _everywhere_ all messy and you can't put glitter confetti _back_ in the bottle, you just can’t! There’ll be glitter and little bits of colorful paper everywhere forever and everyone will _know_ about the glitter confetti because you can always tell when someone’s being using glitter in a room!

… The metaphor got away from him, a little, but Patton was _frazzled_ okay he was _kinda freaking out_ and before he could think about more accurate metaphors he needed to get _out_ of this room.

Giving some kind of stumbling, probably incoherent explanation that almost certainly didn't make sense and Patton was _very_ certainly not going to remember later, Patton scrambled out like he was being chased by a small, nippy dog and ran to his room, where he splashed cold water on his face and tried not to see the phantom after-image of Roman and Virgil locked in an embrace and so beautiful together it made Patton heart flutter and his breath come out in little shaky puffs.

He was going to _have_ to tell Remus, to get him to fix whatever the neurolink had done to Patton, but that would require _telling him_ that Patton could hear Roman, Logan, and Virgil’s thoughts and Remus would definitely tell Janus who was a Nosey Nelly on his best days and Patton would actually die of embarrassment if he had to say any of the things he’d seen or heard out loud.

A week. _One week,_ and it had already been three days so – four more days and if it hadn’t worn off by then, Patton would say something.

If he _lived_ that long, he thought a little hysterically.

\---

Patton quickly came to realize that Virgil’s thoughts being _quieter_ than Roman’s certainly didn’t make them _calmer._

Sometimes Virgil’s thoughts moved so fast Patton couldn’t even parse the words, the sentences overlapping and tripping over each other in dizzying circles, shot through with flashes of alarming, panicked images of one of the others tripping and cracking their heads on furniture, Remus blowing himself up in the lab, Logan’s powers overloading and burning him from the inside out, all manner of frazzled, terror-struck imaginings that made Patton kind of want to wrap Virgil in a hug and never let him go.

(Which wasn’t exactly _new_ , but – that’s one of the Things We Don’t Think About.)

Patton spent the first couple days wondering if it didn’t have something to do with Virgil’s super-speed making his thoughts faster somehow, but then Virgil made a one of his “fight or flight” jokes and it clicked.

Virgil really _did_ have fight or flight powers – it _wasn’t_ a joke. The super-strength and speed and the invisibility – they stemmed from _fear,_ and apparently Virgil’s fear itself was _also_ an enhanced trait.

Which honestly kind of made Patton want to punch something.

How was it fair that Virgil had to go through life practically _constantly_ panicking? Patton had never really thought about what exactly it was in the universe that granted supers their powers, but it was hard not to be a little _ticked_ at it after being subjected to hearing Virgil practically vibrate with anxiety about _everything_ for several days.

Patton had seen Virgil have panic attacks since they moved into the Dark Sides lair – which Roman insisted on calling a headquarters now – but he’d never realized just how often or how _close_ to a panic attack Virgil got on a daily basis.

He shouldn’t have done it – Patton wasn’t supposed to be hearing their thoughts _at all_ , no matter what he was doing with them, even if it was good – but Patton had tried to stave this one off once he’d been able to tell it was coming. It centered around the various alarming noises coming from Remus’s lab currently, and Patton found himself overwhelmed by the images that seemed different from Virgil’s usual anxious imaginings.

They seemed dimmer, but also more grounded – there was a solid quality to them Patton couldn’t place, and it took listening to the clamber of Virgil's spiraling thoughts for Patton to figure it out.

They weren’t from Virgil’s imagination at all – they were memories.

Remus’s hands shaking and covered in electrical burns. A slash on his cheek from a spinning gear coming loose and hitting him in the face. Virgil finding him face down and unconscious in his lab, having accidentally hit himself with one of his own ray guns.

So many memories – how many times had Virgil heard a noise and wonder if Remus was hurt or _dying_ the next room over? No _wonder_ he’d been so twitchy when Remus had wanted to test the neurolinks.

Patton wondered if Remus even _knew_ how constantly Virgil was worried about him.

“Virgil?” said Logan softly, interrupting Patton’s – failing – attempt at increasingly worried distraction.

“Hmm?” replied Virgil, a strangled hum.

“How many versions of the Wraith uniform did you go through?”

Virgil jerked a little.

“Uh- two versions, as a supervillain and then this one.”

 _I’m telling Roman you said you weren’t a supervillain anymore,_ thought Patton, but he didn't say anything, letting Logan take over where he seemed much less out of his depth than Patton.

“What does the fabric consist of?” continued Logan.

“Uh- its Kevlar and an unstable polymer Remus invented that uh- will disappear when I do.”

He began to look a little green again at the mention of Remus, Patton seeing a flash-bang of terrifying images, but Logan cut him off.

“Fascinating. Do your clothes not normally?”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth twitched with a smile.

“Not as well,” said Virgil, “They just get kinda see-through, but there's still distortion. Like looking through a glass of water.”

Logan continued to ask Virgil questions about his super-suit, and then eventually prompting him about his powers themselves, and then of all things _Janus’s_ powers, claiming that Glamour’s abilities had always fascinated him but that Janus was frustratingly tight-lipped about them, and that Virgil must know something.

And through it all, Virgil began to think of Logan, and Patton was blown away all over again.

 _Thank you,_ came Virgil voice, small and adoring, _Thank you so much. You don’t have to do this. You don't have to be here. It was selfish of me to bring you here but you were all so scared and I couldn’t stand it and now I get_ this, _I get to see you every day and hear you talk like you_ care _about me and it’s the best thing that's ever happened to me._

Brief, nervous images of Virgil reaching out to grab Logan’s hand that split off into branches _–_ Logan throwing him off, Logan turning his hand over in Virgil’s and squeezing, Logan lifting Virgil’s hand to his mouth and pressing his lips there and then that one shattered into too many fractures for Patton to see properly, a kaleidoscope of tentative cuddling and held hands and feet tucked under thighs and-

Patton’s stomach began to twist uncomfortably.

Logan was pining for Patton – but _Virgil_ liked Logan, and Roman was clearly infatuated with Virgil. What a _mess._

 _And where do you fit?_ Drawled some dry voice that sounded treacherously like Janus before Patton shook his head to clear it.

Patton’s own thoughts turned to the feel of Virgil’s fingers on his chin when the neurolink had burned him, Logan catching him out of the air during superhero escapades and the way Roman always made gold constructs of fun shapes and little animals to amuse Patton when he was down.

 _Nowhere,_ he lied to himself _, nowhere at all._

_\---_

There were two days left before Patton’s self-imposed deadline was up, and the mind-reading had shown no signs of letting up.

Patton was mostly getting used to it – if he could ignore the pangs in his heart at the hopelessly mismatched romantic situation, it was almost comforting to have the others thoughts swirling round him, Roman’s bright comforting images and Logan’s soft monologues and Virgil’s ever-vigilance.

Roman was regaling them all with a story from his and Remus’s childhood, from before they’d quite split off into really super hero-and-villainy, when they’d just been a pair of superpowered rival brothers. It was interesting, to watch the memory-images flash and then translate into Roman’s words, and Patton found himself hopelessly entranced.

 _Look at him,_ thought Logan, _it’s enchanting._

Patton flushed, glancing at Logan, expecting to find Logan looking back at him – but he wasn't.

He was looking at Roman.

 _How is he so passionate about everything?_ Thought Logan, and Patton recognized that sweet, besotted note, _It’s like he simply can’t run out of enthusiasm. He seems to have opinions about everything, and I feel like I would do anything to hear all of them._

 _Oh,_ thought Patton, and then, louder, _Oh!_

That was – a slightly different animal.

Patton’s gaze flickered between Logan’s soft, indulgent smile and Roman’s enthusiastic grins and gestures, and something frighteningly similar to hope began to bloom in his chest.

 _Maybe?_ He thought, heart fluttering, _Maybe??? Maybe!_

Patton tamped down on it, trying not to let it get out of control, not when he couldn’t be sure and certainly not when he was absolutely not supposed to be privy to _any_ of this information.

The hope colored with guilt again, and Patton cringed away from his own feelings and tried to focus on the conversation.

Because even if an absolute miracle happened, and Patton’s hope _was_ right, well-

What, exactly, was he supposed to do about it?

\---

“I still say you playing this game is inherently cheating.” said Virgil.

“Weeeeeell,” said Patton, giggling, “Maybe a little.”

The game in question was Jenga, and Patton did have something of an unfair advantage, being able to easily intuit which blocks would have the easiest time coming out.

But it was also Jenga _dare_ , which meant he still wasn’t exempt from whatever came _written_ on the blocks.

Patton pulled one out, turning it over in his hand.

“’Do an impression.’ Oh gosh it doesn’t say of what,” laughed Patton.

“Do you take suggestions?” drawled Virgil.

“Whatcha got?” shot back Patton.

“You could try Remus,” said Virgil, smiling, “At the very least it would be very funny to watch.”

“Oh, I can try that!” said Patton, “Um-”

He affected his best Remus voice and began to speak.  
“Particles. Nucleus, uh- molecular isotropic frequencies-”

Virgil choked, covering his mouth to keep from laughing.

“I want world domination, but only so I can make everyone do funny things like wear underwear on their heads-”

“ _Stop,”_ laughed Virgil, “Okay, you won, please stop before I die,”

Patton couldn’t keep up the voice, dissolving into giggles, and before he could stop himself he reached across the table and squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own.

Virgil’s thoughts always happened so fast – a brilliant _burst_ of color, Virgil’s perspective of Patton haloed in bronze, a spinning blur of _prettygentlekindsweet_ _ **adored**_ that made Patton’s heart flip like a spinning maple seed in his chest.

And then it all _slammed_ to a cold stop, and Virgil jerked his hand away from Patton’s, a pinched, heartbroken frown on his face.

 _Stop it,_ Virgil’s thoughts hissed, _Stop it, you are not going to do this, Patton and Roman are_ happy _together and you have no right to be pining after them like some kind of-_

“Wait, _what?_ ” said Patton, flushing, before instantly remembering he _was not supposed to be hearing Virgil’s thoughts_ , and definitely not supposed to be _responding to them out loud._

Virgil’s thoughts colored confused, _What is he talking about?_ And Patton’s own weren’t far behind, because it sounded – it _sounded_ like Virgil not only thought Patton and Roman were _together,_ but that he was also _beating himself up for liking them_ because of it.

So now _Patton_ was starting to freak out because – because it was starting to look like this was maybe, possibly, something that could _actually work_ except Virgil was so upset and Patton shouldn’t know _any of this,_ and what if everyone was horribly mad at him for not saying anything, except if he’d said something he _wouldn’t know any of it_ and even with the guilt and the worry and the sympathy swirling dark and trembling in his stomach Patton couldn’t help his heart _hoping._

“Uh- Virgil-” said Patton, voice shaking, reaching for Virgil’s hand again.

“I have to go! _”_ blurted Virgil, thought a panicked stumble of jitters.

And then he had the _nerve_ to actually superspeed away.

Patton couldn’t help but be just the teensiest bit offended, even if he was mostly just worried.

Groaning, Patton dragged his hands down his face and threw himself down on the couch in a fit of dramatics Roman would have been proud of.

He bit his lip, thinking it over.

Tomorrow. He’d agreed on tomorrow, and tomorrow he was going to go to Remus and admit something had happened with the neurolinks, and hopefully Remus would fix it.

But then he still had to figure out what to do with all of… this.

Which was starting to seem like the hardest part.

\---

It was officially tomorrow.

And of _course,_ they woke up to a note from Janus and Remus saying they were going out on “business” for the day.

Roman had been immediately suspicious, ranting about whatever dastardly deeds they might get up to without the rest of them to rein them in – nobody except Patton seemed to register that he’d included Virgil in “the rest of them” – before Virgil rolled his eyes and said they probably just went to make out in semi-public places because that was their idea of a date.

Roman had pulled a disgusted face and thrown a pillow at him, which had of course devolved into a superpowered pillow-fight that Virgil thoroughly thrashed all of them at, and then they’d all collapsed on the rug of the biggest common room, breathing heavy and giggling.

It was wonderful.

It was _torture._

There was no denying it now, no way to explain it away. Logan’s thoughts lingered sweet and heartfelt over all three of them as his gaze drifted around the room. Virgil’s skittered and jumped nervously from scenario to scenario, the words an undercurrent of alternating anxiety and pining to the images.

And then Roman turned to look at Logan and Patton, sitting next to each other with their backs to the couch, and started picturing them kissing, which, really, now the universe was just picking on Patton directly.

Clearing his throat, Patton tried to focus on anything other than the overwhelming images Roman was projecting, the way he thought Logan might cradle Patton’s jaw, the card of Logan’s warm brown fingers in Patton’s black curls, the glow of Logan’s powers throwing a gold cast over both of them – but Roman’s thoughts were just so _bright,_ so intense and so _warm_ , and Patton felt his face burning in answer.

“Patton?”

“Hmmm?” said Patton, embarrassingly strangled.

He turned to face Logan, who’s brow was pinched in concern.

“Are you okay?” he said quietly, “You seem anxious.”

 _Really?_ thought Patton, frustrated, as both Virgil and Roman turned to look at them.

“Yeah, Lo, I’m fine,” he replied softly.

“Are you sure?” said Logan, leaning in.

And Roman pictured him finishing the gap, licking into Patton’s mouth, and Patton _snapped._

Grasping Logan’s jaw in his hands, Patton kissed him fiercely, and Logan’s thoughts exploded into shrill, wondering incoherence before they blissed out completely and the only thing Patton heard was his name, soft and overwhelmingly happy, his own heart swelling in his chest in response.

They broke apart with a pair of soft gasps, and when Patton’s eyes fluttered open Logan was staring at him with wide, marveling eyes – Patton swallowed the “stars in your eyes” pun to avoid ruining the moment.

Confused, nervously muttering thoughts began to underline the moment, and Patton turned.

Roman and Virgil were both staring openly, Roman’s jaw agape, and Virgil’s eyes rapidly flitting from Logan and Patton to Roman, squirming with confusion.

 _Wait, are all_ three _of them together?_ thought Virgil, _How did you_ miss _that, no wonder Logan’s been giving you weird looks every time you invade his personal space, he’s_ taken _genius-_

And Patton figured if he was already in the hole, he might as well keep digging.

Reaching out, Patton wrapped the edge of Virgil’s hood around his fist and tugged, gently – Virgil followed, hesitant, before Patton smiled at him and Virgil’s eyes went round as quarters and Patton kissed him softly.

 _Oh,_ thought Virgil, quiet and slow, _oh, oh,_ _ **oh.**_

They parted, and Virgil looked up at Patton with his eyes still wide and his face open and heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.

Patton saw the two of them from a third perspective and turned, already smiling, to look at Roman, who had a cautiously hopeful expression on his face and his hand half-reaching.

“If you think I’m _not_ going to kiss you after the week I’ve had,” said Patton breathlessly, “You have got another thing coming,”

Roman looked both thrilled and utterly confused before Patton leaned over and kissed the baffled smile off his face.

Patton definitely had a lot of explaining to do, but as Logan slowly pressed up against his back and Virgil gingerly took Patton’s hand in his own, he got a feeling it was all going to work out okay.

_Ping._

\---

“You’re _kidding,”_ said Remus gleefully.

“Don’t you dare make a joke, Remus, I’ll put you in a construct box and _leave you there,_ ” threatened Roman.

“Oh, a joke?” said Janus lightly, “About the fact that one of you had to _literally_ develop the ability to read minds in order to resolve the literal _years_ of pining I have been subjected to, the tension, the yearning glances, the mid-battle flirting-”

“You flirt with Remus mid-battle all the time!” spat Virgil, bright red.

“Yes, Virgil,” said Janus, poisonously patient, “But at no point have Remus and I been on _opposite sides of a battle and flirting.”_

“Oh, who cares about sap squad getting their head out their asses!?” crowed Remus, grabbing Patton by the head and ignoring his squeak and Virgil’s strangled noise of alarm, “I can’t believe my invention gave you the ability to _read fucking minds_ and you didn’t tell me for a _week,_ Patton, I am revoking your friend privileges!”

“We’re friends?” said Patton, smiling brightly.

“I didn’t say that,” lied Remus.

He hesitated.

“Let me scan your brain and we can be friends,” he said finally.

“I _vehemently_ reject this plan,” said Virgil immediately.

Patton turned, his head still held in Remus’s hand, and grinned over his shoulder at Virgil.

“Don’t worry,” he said dryly, “Pings just fine.”

Virgil grinned back, slow and stupidly besotted, and Remus couldn’t even manage to feel the appropriate amount of disgust at the sap-fest that was certainly about to ensue in this lair.

**Author's Note:**

> im also @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors on tumblr!


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